


the woman whom life forgot

by starlightwalking



Category: The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Genre: Back to Middle-Earth Month, F/M, Ghosts, Spirits
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-06
Updated: 2019-03-06
Packaged: 2019-11-13 07:32:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 559
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18027434
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starlightwalking/pseuds/starlightwalking
Summary: Finduilas wanders through Middle-earth, unsure of who and why she is.





	the woman whom life forgot

**Author's Note:**

> My bingo squares for today were Finduilas of Dol Amroth/Beorn from the Crack Ships card and "exile/hands/diversion/perception" from the Four Words card. I am very, very tired and I am sorry if this isn't super great quality.

Finduilas does not die. She does not wither and fade and pass into the mist. It is only the perception of those around her that fails: her husband, her sons, her family—their eyes dim, and they cannot see her any longer.

She finds herself an unwilling ghost. Her hands tremble as she touches the shoulder of her youngest child. He does not feel her, but she is there. She knows she is there.

She grows distant, weary. There is a tugging in the cavity of her chest, guiding her spirit from these walls of stone. It pulls her westward, to the sea, but she is no elf. She is a mortal, a woman of time and temperance.

Finduilas leaves Minas Tirith at last. She is  _not_  dead, she has simply...vanished. Her family does not forget her; it is their grief, their mourning that pains her to see. She walks into exile, lonely.

The elves can see her, but they stay away. She is tainted, or cursed, she thinks. They do not wish to take part in her misery, and she cannot blame them.

The dwarves can feel her, and they pray to her as if she were a spirit of some power. But Finduilas is no Ainu. She is only the woman whom life forgot. She cannot bless them.

The orcs fear her. They flee from her presence, and for awhile, she drifts amongst a company of merchants, acting as a diversion they cannot understand. But when they arrive to their home in the east, she leaves them.

There is a great forest, but it is strong with elvish magic. Finduilas respects that she is unwelcome there and keeps her distance. There are mountains, but the spirits within them repel her. She cannot fight the mighty Caradhras or the fiends beneath the earth. She  _is_ ; she cannot  _do_.

Alone of all living things, the animals can sense no difference between her and any other mortal. Finduilas wonders now if she  _has_  perished, but why then would her spirit linger? Why then has she met no other ghost? She contemplates her existence among the wild ponies, grateful for their unconditional acceptance.

She meets an aging bear in the lands between the mountains and the woods. The ponies do not fear him, and he is gentle among them. He has a glint of wisdom in his eyes, and she fancies he can understand her whispered words. It has been so long since anyone could hear her speak.

Finduilas and her ponies wander the countryside with the bear never far behind. He is soft and warm in the night, and though she needs no such shelter, he is comforting nonetheless. She drifts out of consciousness in the summer evening curled against his belly, and wakes in the arms of a man.

She ought to feel afraid, confused, guilty—but she is not. It is only natural that he is this man, this bear, this skin-changer. She has heard tales of these lands and their wild magic. She knows who Beorn is.

He is man and beast. He sees her, feels her, loves her. He  _understands_  her. He is fading as she is, and will not be with her long, but Finduilas is at ease beside him. She has lost so much already. She will not cast aside such comfort now.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading and commenting!  
> You can find me on tumblr [@arofili](http://arofili.tumblr.com/).


End file.
